


Diplomacy, Deathcopters and Deforestation (The Strokes vs. The Entire World)

by youngskeleton



Category: Real Person Fiction, The Strokes
Genre: Gen, Model United Nations AU, Multi, albert will be introduced later, eventual ships, heavy artistic liberties with model un procedures, sincere apologies to bosnia-herzegovina, somewhat accurate to strokes canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 17:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngskeleton/pseuds/youngskeleton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian thought joining the Model United Nations club would be an easy way to get out of school for three days. </p>
<p>He was wrong. </p>
<p>(An alternate universe where the Strokes didn't drop out of high school, meet on a bus at 5 AM, and must solve the entire world's problems with pieces of paper. Easier said than done.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diplomacy, Deathcopters and Deforestation (The Strokes vs. The Entire World)

Julian Casablancas sat, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the bus window, and watched snowflakes drift in and out of the murky dawn. He loosened his blue-and-white striped tie for the fiftieth time and groaned: 5 AM was an inhumane time for such a torturous activity. There was always a price to pay for skipping school, but this one was unbearable, especially in his junior year. He propped his feet up on the seat opposite him, let out a dramatic sigh, and turned toward his seatmate.

“Remind me again why we’re doing Model United Nations.”

Nikolai Fraiture, his best friend since elementary school, tucked a lock of golden brown hair behind his ear and continued to read over his research paper. “Because it helps us develop as globally involved citizens. And it’s fun.”

“Fuck off.” Julian plopped his chin onto Nikolai’s shoulder, skimming the papers in his hand. “What’s your plan, anyway? How is Bosnia-Herzegovina going to take over the world this year?” Nikolai cracked a smile at that, and pointed to a paragraph.

“We’re not conquering the world, but we are going to make some interesting military movements.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Nikolai tapped the side of his nose, “Can’t say anything more, but it’ll be good.”

Julian leant back, bemused. “Ah yeah, can’t forget about all of those foreign intelligent agents lurking about, trying to sabotage your resolutions. In fact, here come some now.”

The last of the freshmen members, a lanky, wide-eyed guy drowning in his suit and a bouncy kid dragging a suitcase almost as big as he was, straggled onto the bus. Julian began mentally cursing when they stopped in front of his group of seats.

“Um,” began deer-in-the-headlights kid, “are these seats taken?”

Julian opened his mouth to say that the seats were claimed in the name of Bosnia-Herzewhatever and that the freshmen could file a complaint with the United Nations, but the bouncy kid had already taken a seat and was resting his arm on top of Julian’s shoes. Deer-eyes followed, and at that moment Julian knew that there was no way he would get any rest on the six-hour drive to the conference center.

“Hi, my name’s Fabrizio, but everyone calls me Fab.” The kid grinned, sticking out his hand for Julian to shake. Julian stared at him in response. “I’m representing Italy, which is funny, because my family is from there! So which country are you? Are you guys seniors? What’s the conference center like?” His curls shook with every excited question as Julian and Nikolai shared a long suffering look.

“Yeah, uh, I’m Julian or Jules or whatever, and this is Nikolai.” Julian wiggled his shoes out from under Fab’s bony elbow. He nodded toward the wide-eyed kid, hoping he’d get the hint.

“I’m Nick.” Nick spoke, worrying the edge of his lip. “My country is France.”

Nikolai’s shoulders stiffened beside Julian, who was fighting back a smirk.

“Oh, you’re France, huh?” Julian asked, his eyes dancing with glee. “What a great country, especially for a freshman, damn. Normally freshmen get,” he paused, stretching casually and watching Nikolai wrestle with his weird inner French demons, “smaller countries. You know, like New Zealand, or Afghanistan, or Bosnia-Herzewhatever.”

“Bosnia-Herzegovina.” Nikolai muttered through a clenched grin. “It’s my country this year, actually.”

“Oh, um, they’re important too, right?” Nick’s expression had transitioned from alarmed to cautious, Julian noted. This could be fun, maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all.

“Yeah!” Fabrizio chimed in, drawn away from looking out of the window and watching the city traffic. “All of the countries in the General Assembly are important. Otherwise they wouldn’t be there. Are we all in the same committee?”

Julian thought for a second, and nodded. “I mean, the U.S. is probably in everything, you know?”

Fab almost leapt out of his seat. “Dude, you’re America? You can do like, everything!” Nick, on the other hand, was rattled worse than before, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

Julian shrugged, pleased to get some credit. “It’s cool, I guess. I don’t really have anything planned.” It was funny to watch Nikolai struggle to pretend that he was engrossed in his research paper and couldn’t hear Julian’s blase comments. He was going to tear his paper if he didn’t relax soon.

The bus lurched forward, and their attention was occupied by the teachers taking roll call for a few minutes. As they crossed the bridge onto the highway, Julian curled up against the window and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the steady hum of the wheels and the murmur of voices around him.

 

* * *

 

It took only what felt like a few seconds before Julian was jerked awake by a well-placed jab to his side.

“Fuck!” He squawked, as Fab and Nick tried to stifle their laughter. Nikolai sat beside him, still reading his paper and smiling in revenge. “We’re going to be there in a few minutes, man. You’d better wake up.” Julian huffed in response, crossing his arms and trying to get back into a comfortable position against the window.

The scenery outside had changed from concrete and steel to farms and the occasional field of cows. It reminded Julian of the valleys of Switzerland, where he had stayed in boarding school for a few years in middle school. He wished, suddenly, that he wasn’t going to spend the next three days cooped up in a hotel; that he’d be spending time under the blue skies instead.  Across from him, Fab was drawing a pastoral landscape with a pen on his convention folder. It was really fucking good, Julian noted. He gazed around the bus, and his heavy-lidded eyes landed once again on Nick, who was listening to a tape on his Walkman.

“Hey, what’re you listening to?” He leant over, careful not to disturb Fab’s concentration. Nick blinked and moved one of his headphones off of his ear. “Velvet Underground.”

Julian grinned at that. “Nick, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

 

* * *

 

The convention hall was huge and filled to its high rafters with thousands of students. Julian fidgeted with the edge of a white tablecloth, ignoring the drone of the commencement speech. He looked around, taking in the people around him. Nick sat in front of him, resting his sharp cheekbone in his palm. Fab sat across from him, alternating between tapping out a rhythm on the table and bouncing his leg. He turned around and caught Nikolai’s eye.

“This shit is boring as hell,” he whispered with a grin. Nikolai smiled, nodded, and pressed a finger to his lips in a what-can-you-do gesture. Julian turned back, crossed his arms, and thought of the beer in his suitcase, which was hours away back in his hotel room. God, he was bored. After two and a half mental recitations of the entire Doors catalogue, the commencement speaker said something about starting the conference, and people around him began clapping. Julian could’ve kissed whoever was sitting next to him in celebration, but his joy was dampened by a new thought that hit him.  

It was time to begin the General Assembly.


End file.
